


the keys to start again

by cave_canem



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Beach Holidays, M/M, Post-Canon, Summer Vacation, the MASERATI is discussed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-15
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-09-01 11:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20257519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cave_canem/pseuds/cave_canem
Summary: Grouping all of the Foxes together in a beach house for a week might not be the brightest idea they've ever come up with, but Neil is going to have to deal with it. His distractions include: exy (banned), a haircut (Allison's idea), fast cars (Neil was the one who bought it anyways), and Andrew (warm and grumpy).Great.





	the keys to start again

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [Noah](https://lizardteeths.tumblr.com/) for the aftg summer exchange! Writing this was super fun and I love writing all the Foxes together. This is about healing, a little bit, but mostly about being happy. 
> 
> Happy reading!

Allison brings up the subject of team vacation as soon as March. 

“Sponsored by Neil and myself,” she says, looping an arm around Neil’s shoulders. They’re standing, but the height difference makes it easy for her. Neil shrugs her off but doesn’t try to move when she accepts the rebuff.

“Neil?” Dan repeats. “Since when do you have money?”

Neil blinks at her. Sometimes he forgets that despite the Foxes’ knowledge of his past, only Andrew is privy to the smallest details.

“He bought Andrew a Maserati,” Kevin says drily. “I think it’s safe to say he can pay half of the vacation cost.”

Heads swivel around. “What?” Neil asks. “Don’t look at me like that. Nicky—I thought you knew.”

Nicky screams.

* * *

“I can’t believe I thought Andrew was Neil’s sugar daddy, but it’s actually the opposite,” Nicky moans thirty minutes later when they’re all spread around the girls’ dorm, laptops open. 

Aaron throws the content of his glass on Nicky, some of it falling on the rug. Dan’s yell of warning almost drowns out Nicky’s shriek.

“It’s just water,” Aaron says to Dan before turning to Nicky. “If you even think about those words again, I’m burning your mattress. You can sleep on the floor until May.”

“I was joking,” Nicky protests, shaking his shirt. “You have an anger management problem. Besides, Matt would never let me sleep on the cold hard floor.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, nodding vigorously. “You can take the couch.”

“Nobody loves me.”

“That’s because you make inappropriate comments about your family’s sex life at least twice a day,” Neil says. “I hate to say this, but I agree with Aaron.”

“Fuck you,” Aaron replies mechanically, then: “Wait, what?”

* * *

Staying on land wins over cruises, in the end, but the Foxes still vote for the beach. There are only seven votes for, one against and one abstention. Dan gives Andrew an exasperated look. Against Neil and Andrew’s best efforts, the beach still wins. 

“You could have just told them,” Andrew remarks on their last day at Palmetto. The Tower is in a state of disarray, half-packed boxes and suitcases blocking the way of people going from one room to another looking for k-tape and phone chargers. 

“It’s too late now,” Neil says, zipping his duffel bag over his summer clothes. The rest of his belongings are safely put away in a suitcase—new, too big for any airplane company’s carry-on regulation sizes, and what a thrill it is—and the backpack he uses for classes. “I’ll be fine.”

“You are a martyr for all useless causes.”

“It’s just a week. It’ll be over before we know it.”

Andrew’s eyes tell Neil he’s not convinced, but he drops the subject. Andrew has slightly more luggage than Neil but not a lot, so they drag all of their stuff into the living room where Kevin is sitting, surrounded by books he anxiously tries to fit into a single cardboard box.

“That’s not going to fit in the car,” Neil says. 

“I _ know _,” Kevin snaps. “I didn’t think I had that many books. I’ll find a way to keep them in a single box.”

“No, I mean, even the box won’t fit.”

Kevin looks up, eyes wide. “What?”

“Nicky,” is Andrew’s only answer. 

“Fuck.”

Kevin looks down at the books at his feet. Neil can see him trying to calculate angles and volumes in his head. 

“Just leave them at Wymack’s,” Neil says finally, taking pity. “It’s just for a few days. We’re stocking the rest in Columbia. You can get them back when we get back.”

Kevin hesitates, so Neil calls Wymack on his own phone, who agrees to host a box or two of books for the summer with a voice gruff with emotion. 

“Thanks,” Kevin mumbles when Neil hangs up, avoiding his eyes. 

Neil shares a look with Andrew and resists the urge to roll his eyes. It’s a wonder no one figured out Kevin’s parentage before; sometimes the two men are too similar. 

* * *

The upperclassmen elected to rent storage boxes in the area for the summer, because they chose a location in South Carolina to include Andrew, who categorically refused to fly anywhere for his vacation. It means that the Maserati, with Andrew behind the wheel, arrives first at the beach house Allison rented and Kevin and Nicky are free to argue for the isolated room overlooking the beach. 

“You’re a heavier sleeper than I am,” Kevin argues, which is so blatantly untrue that Neil sees Aaron choke a little on his water. “It’s the quietest room. I’m taking it.”

“I haven’t seen Erik in eight months,” replies Nicky. “I plan on having so much Skype sex that anyone in their right mind would give _ me _ the quiet room.”

“Ugh,” Aaron intervenes with the face of someone speaking from experience. “Just give it to Matt and Dan, so that we can _ all _ dodge a bullet.”

They reluctantly agree, so Neil feels confident leaving them downstairs while he checks out the other rooms. The house has six bedrooms, including four with a double bed. In the end the choice makes itself because only one of those faces away from the sea.

“You okay with sharing?” Neil asks Andrew, who followed him through all of the rooms without a word. 

Andrew pokes Neil in the small of his back, sidestepping around him. “Are you?” he asks, dumping his bag on the bed. 

Neil smiles, stepping out of his shoes. His toes sink in the thick rug placed in front of the bed, and he takes a moment to appreciate the feeling. He’s worked on building all those little moments of comfort in the past year, useless appreciation for things that don’t pertain to his survival. It’s one way to feel happy and alive, he’s found. Andrew is always willing to oblige him. 

Neil crawls across the mattress to the side Andrew’s claimed, answering Andrew’s invitation with a slight hum. They settle on their sides, almost nose to nose, their legs tangling. Kissing Andrew is natural, even those lazy, tired presses of their mouths that Neil had never even imagined when they first started this. 

He closes his eyes. Andrew’s breath fans on his face and Neil takes a moment to catalogue the feeling, the happiness and the contentment that settle the rattle of his nerves. The owner of the house planted flowers outside the window. Neil doesn’t know their name, but he remembers that smell from Greece. It’s a kind that supposedly repels mosquitoes. Their perfume is heady, overpowering even the scent of iodine wafting in from the sea. 

It’s a peaceful moment.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Andrew wans in a low voice. 

His hand comes up to Neil’s hair, tugging slightly on the split ends. Allison has been trying to repair it from years of neglect and botched dye jobs, but it’s a slow process. Neil suspects she’s going to snap sooner rather than later and come at him with scissors. Having spent half of his life hacking at it to disguise himself, Neil wouldn’t have a problem even if she wanted to buzz it all off, but it’s entertaining to see her try and keep her patience. 

“I won’t,” he answers. “Just resting my eyes.”

Andrew tugs a little more insistently until Neil opens his eyes with a smile. Andrew quickly kisses it off. 

“They’ll be here soon,” he remarks. “What are you going to do when they want to go out swimming? Or when they lit up a bonfire on the beach?”

Neil shrugs. “I’ll cross those bridges when I get there.”

Outside, Neil can hear a car pull in the driveway.

“They are,” Andrew replies. They wait a bit before going downstairs. 

* * *

True to Andrew’s prediction, the Foxes immediately change into their swimwear. Dan does a cartwheel mid-stride down the beach, to the acclamations of the others. 

Neil helps Matt and Renee bring out drinks, lying towels on the empty spot of beach they may have rented at the same time as the house—the details were handled by Allison—and planting parasols. 

The sand burns Neil’s feet as surely as the sun. He drops on a towel under the shade as soon as he can and waves his teammates off. 

“I’m fine,” he lies after the third invitation to join them in the water. “I’m a bit tired. I’ll just rest.”

Kevin drops his Exy magazine in Neil’s lap before following the others in the water, which is one of the most considerate things he’s done all month. Neil takes a deep breath, regretting it immediately when he is assailed with memories. 

It’s not the same beach, or even the same coast, but it’s similar enough that Neil’s skin is crawling with the need to get _ away _.

A shadow falls on him, and Neil looks up from the magazine to find Andrew stepping onto the towel. He holds out a chilled bottle of water to Neil, taking a sip of his own can of soda. The contact of his skin against the sweating plastic jolts Neil back in the present. 

“Are you done?” he asks, which Neil translates as _ Are you done freaking out? _

“I’ve barely started,” he admits, taking a long sip to parch his throat. 

“Mhm.” Andrew carefully puts down his can on the drinks cooler they’ve dragged out of the house. “Yes or no?”

Neil looks at him, surprised. Andrew’s leaning back on one hand, the other one held up in the air halfway to Neil’s face. 

“Yes,” he says. 

Andrew’s kiss burns the salt off Neil’s lips, but it’s short. When Neil hears the catcalls coming from the sea, he understands why. Neil waves at them vaguely, an acknowledgement or a dismissal. Someone yells, and a huge splash a second later tells Neil that someone ended up in the water. 

“Menaces,” Andrew says, leaning away from Neil. 

Neil feels a short spike of disappointment. Andrew lies down next to him, a pocket of space between them as a concession to the heat, and plops down sunglasses over his eyes. Neil catches the movement from the corner of his eyes, but once he’s glanced at Andrew he can’t look away.

It’s not the first time he’s seen Andrew with sunglasses, but it is the first time he’s seen him look so relaxed and vacation-like. Neil can tell he’s closed his eyes behind the dark lenses, so he’s more surprised than he should be when he hears Andrew tell him, “Staring.”

“How’d you know?”

“Not denying it, I see.” Andrew brings up a hand, gesturing between them. “I can feel the weight of your stare.”

“Can I lie on you?” Neil asks. “That way you can truly feel my weight.”

That makes Andrew react enough to lift up his glasses, squinting at Neil. “No.”

It’s curt. Neil isn’t fooled. 

“Warm?” he asks. Andrew glares and Neil gives up on fighting off his smile. “You wouldn’t be in this predicament if you dressed weather-inclusively.” He pinches at the cloth over Andrew’s biceps. “Long sleeves, really? Closed shoes?”

“I didn’t plan on going somewhere the sun shines directly in my face.”

“Andrew, we booked the house rental two months ago.” When Andrew doesn’t answer, Neil pushes. “You didn’t go shopping for summer clothes, did you.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Everyone needs to, especially if you’re going on vacation.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize I was talking to an expert on shopping and _ vacations _. Tell me again how much we spent building you a new wardrobe?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” Neil pushes gently at his shoulder, but Andrew catches his hand and doesn’t let go. “I go shopping regularly when I need to, now. Look, I’m wearing shorts.”

His only pair, but still shorts.

“And a tee-shirt.” Andrew squeezes Neil’s hand. 

“Maybe I’m wearing a shirt,” Neil says, “but at least I’m here. That’s one step.”

“It’s not a competition,” Andrew says, growing serious as he always is about this. “And don’t you dare make it about me.”

“It is about you.” Neil knows the words aren’t what he means as soon as he says them. Andrew sits up, turning to look at Neil. He lets go of his hand, placing it in Neil’s lap.

“It can’t be all about me. I cannot be the only thing. That’s a cop out. That’s trading one unhealthy coping mechanism for another. I won’t let this become one.”

“I know,” Neil says, focusing on the way Andrew said “this” the same way as “this relationship”. “It’s about me. But you are a part of it, and the Foxes too.” Andrew’s face doesn’t change, but his silence is proof Neil is going in the right direction. “It’s about making me happy, and taking care of you does.”

Andrew turns his face away. For a moment Neil fears it might be too much and he leans back, giving Andrew the time and space he might need. Neither of them have cigarettes on them and Neil can see the twitch in Andrew’s fingers that indicates a need. 

Neil is ready for Andrew to get up and go back to the house to fetch the pack, but in the end he only turns away to pick his soda up. He takes a long sip, facing the sea. 

“We can go shopping tomorrow,” he says. 

“Alright,” Neil says. He settles back to watch his teammates attempt to drown each other.

* * *

The next day is even warmer and Andrew retreats inside after ten am. Neil has learned that Andrew always sleeps badly in a new bed, even one as comfortable as theirs, so he’s not surprised to see Andrew collapse on the bed after lunch. Andrew doesn’t acknowledge Neil when he comes in to tell him he’s going shopping with Allison and Nicky. 

“I’ll get you some things,” Neil says. “Text me what exactly. Also, Nicky asks if he can drive the Maserati.”

“You bought it.”

“It’s still your car,” Neil says patiently. In the end Andrew nods sharply and Neil leaves him to his nap. 

“Oh, man,” Nicky says when he sees Neil come down, jiggling his keys. “I’m so nervous. What did he say?”

Neil shrugs. “Sure.” He tosses the keys to Nicky, who flounders and almost drops them.

“What the fuck,” Nicky says happily. He turns to Allison. 

“I have a Porsche,” she says. “I could have let you drive it.”

“It’s not so much the car as the fact that it’s Andrew’s,” Nicky replied, flapping his hands. “Although once I’m back to normal again, I’m definitely taking you up on that.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Neil tells Allison as Nicky runs ahead. “Or maybe you should have waited to be in a car with him, first.”

Allison frowns. “That bad?”

“I guess you’ll have to see.”

Nicky is still adjusting the seat and the mirror when Neil slips in the passenger’s seat. “You both have such short legs,” he laughs. He draws the seat back suddenly and Allison makes a noise of protest when the back of it hits her shins.

“Sorry,” Nicky says, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “Long legs.”

“Me too,” she replies. Neil feels her sliding across the backseat to the right side.

“Alright,” Nicky says, sliding the key in the ignition. “How does it work?”

Neil blinks. “It’s a car,” he says, wondering if this was really a good idea. “Turn it on, drive.”

“But it’s a Maserati. Is it in manual mode or automatic? How does it hold the road?”

“Those are things you can figure out as you drive,” Neil says. 

“That’s the best way to wreck your engine,” Allison says. 

“Neil, serious question. Have you been driving this car like you would a random Toyota?”

“There’s only one way of driving.”

Nicky gasps. “Oh my god.” He closes his eyes and takes a huge breath in. “Alright.”

Allison taps Neil on the top of the head, prompting him to turn to face her. “Where did you learn to drive?”

The truth is too complicated, so Neil shortens it to: “Europe.”

“That’s code for ‘stolen cars’ and ‘life-threatening injury’,” Nicky says. 

He’s not wrong. Neil’s silence conjures up a new round of “Oh my god” before his phone creates a distraction. 

“Andrew?”

“Pass me Nicky,” Andrew says. “I know you’re not driving, I can hear the engine still on in the driveway.”

“Just a little delay,” Neil says before handing off the phone to Nicky.

“Hey, Andrew? Yeah, your boyfriend is going to wreck your car before the year is up, just fyi.”

“I’ll buy him another one,” Neil says.

Nicky glances at him with a surprised laugh. “No—he just said the exact same thing. Okay, okay, talk me through it.”

The rest of the conversation dissolves in a string of “uh huh” while Nicky touches every gear and button in the car. Neil stares ahead through the windshield, waving at Dan when she comes out the front door to look at them with a quizzical gesture.

She makes her way to the car carefully, avoiding the sun-hot stones of the pathway with her bare feet. Neil slides down his window when she comes up to the car. 

“What’s happening?” she asks. “Car problem?”

“We realized Nicky didn’t know how to drive a sports car and that Neil was an incompetent teacher because he’s not much better.”

“It’s just a car,” Neil repeats, starting to tire of the words.

“Andrew’s giving him a crash test without coming down because fuck, I guess.” Allison shrugs. “I’m dragging Neil to the hairdresser to make him pay for the lost time.”

“Since when is this my fault?” Neil asks, turning to look at Allison incredulously. “And no.”

“The sea is going to ruin your hair even more than it is now, you know,” Dan says. 

“I don’t even go in the water.”

“The salt is still in the air.”

“I’m not going to the hair salon,” Neil says.

“Is this a ‘no stranger with sharp scissors coming near my head’ thing?” Allison asks. Confronted with Neil’s silence, she adds: “Alright, but we’re looking for quality products to give your poor hair a respite.”

Neil is annoyed enough to let her waste her money, so he shrugs. 

“Twenty bucks the bottles will still be unopened by the end of the vacation,” Dan says. 

Well, if any Fox is stupid enough to take this, Dan will make easy money. Neil crosses his arms, doing his best to ignore the two of them. 

“Oh, no. I’m getting the monster—Andrew,” Allison amends when she crosses Neil’s eyes in the visor mirror, “on my case. I bet he wants Neil’s hair to be soft as much as I do.”

“For different reasons,” Dan says.

“Too bad I’m my own person and he doesn’t get a say in it,” Neil bites off.

Allison leans forward, wrapping her arms around Neil’s headrest to tug at his hair. “You’ll care about it when he can’t take his hands off you when you have sex.”

Neil gently bats her hand away. “No thanks.”

“Fine.” Allison leans back in her seat. She slides her sunglasses down on her nose dramatically. “Your hair can keep being brittle and ugly until it falls off, I guess.”

“Thanks, we’ll have a lot of fun documenting its demise.”

Dan laughs loudly.

“Who’s ‘we’?” Nicky asks, clapping Neil’s phone shut with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Are we talking about Andrew and Neil?”

“Give this poor boy his flip phone back,” Dan says, watching Nicky fiddle with it.

“It’s just so fun and dramatic,” Nicky sighs. He plops the phone in Neil’s lap. “Alright, we can go.”

“Finally.”

Dan straightens and walks back to the house, waving at them until Nicky backs out of the driveway.

* * *

They take much more longer at the mall than Neil thought they would, so Neil drives on the way back. 

“Thank you,” Allison mutters as she slides into the backseat. She probably means to thank him for not letting Nicky behind the wheel again, but it could also be because Neil agreed to buy a hair mask. 

He said yes to being dragged in an expensive-looking beauty shop, and then he limited the amount of products he would agree to try to one.

“One,” Allison repeated disdainfully.

“I don’t want to take an hour in the bathroom every time we go to the court for night practice,” Neil said.

“Ugh, fine.”

She picked up a bottle and peered at the tag. “What do you use?”

“Shampoo?” Neil tried. “That blue bottle you told me to get.”

“And conditioner? You use conditioner, don’t you?”

“What for?”

“No wonder you look like you’ll be bald by thirty,” Allison said. “Nicky, he doesn’t use conditioner.”

Nicky looked up from his phone. “Yeah?”

“I’m disappointed,” Allison said. “In both of you.”

Neil tried protesting, but in the end they left with a bottle of conditioner that matched his shampoo and a jar of some kind of mask Allison promised he would only have to apply once a week. 

Compromises, Dan had said. The first tool in a team captain’s equipment.

Neil lets Nicky and Allison’s chatter fade in the background as he drives back to the house. Despite his flippant words earlier, he’s careful with the car, worried by Nicky’s reproach and undue care. Andrew has always looked careless in his driving, but he also knew exactly how and what to tell Nicky. Neil shouldn’t be surprised; he knows better than anyone how deeply Andrew can care about his things despite all appearances. 

Neil has money, but he was brought up on the road in an unusual state of poverty. Throwing money around is something Allison does, but every one of Neil’s expenses is calculated. It looks as though he’s going to have to ask Andrew for driving lessons. 

* * *

Andrew is still in the bedroom when they come back. Neil scoops up the bag of clothes he bought Andrew and slips upstairs while Nicky and Allison unload their own shopping bags and the groceries they went out for. 

“Here,” he says, sitting on the bed. 

Andrew silently looks up from his phone. Immediately, a little sound tells Neil he’s lost at his snake game. He snaps the phone closed, discarding it to the side, and peers inside the bag.

“Clothes,” Neil says. 

Andrew glances at him, as if to say, _ I can see that _. He’s mute with tiredness and red from the heat, despite the AC working in the room. Neil feels the cold blast of air and shivers once. He longs to open a window, let some fresh air in. Neil never feels as trapped as when he breathes recycled air. 

The alternative, he’s aware, is worse, so he leaves it as that. 

The clothes are simple: short-sleeved tee-shirts, so that Andrew doesn’t have to wear his armbands under another layer, shorts. Nicky dropped in a pair of black flip-flops at the last moment.

Andrew changes his shirt immediately, shucking off a large and baggy top that Neil is pretty sure once belonged to him. Andrew tends to wear clothes that are close to his body; he would never have picked a shirt this ill-fitted.

Neil looks away when Andrew’s skin appears, a remnant of reluctance of his own. Andrew doesn’t miss it. 

“You can look,” he says as he adjusts the armbands around his wrists. It feels unfair of him to say the words while doing this, but Neil doesn’t pick up on it. He knows what Andrew means; it’s not about the scars. Not yet. 

“You didn’t tell me to look,” he says instead.

Andrew catches his chin in his hand, drawing Neil’s head back to face him. “You don’t need permission if I’m changing in front of you.”

Neil shrugs. “I’ll look next time,” he says to indicate he’s understood. It’s not an issue worth a debate. Andrew was right: this vacation is setting Neil’s nerves and old triggers aflame. 

“Good,” is Andrew’s short answer, before he leans in to kiss Neil. 

Neil pulls them both to the bed, on their sides. The material of the new shirt is thin and fluid under Neil’s fingers, oddly soft. When Neil sneaks his hand underneath it Andrew’s stomach jumps. 

“Mmhm,” Neil says when they break apart. “Good quality.”

He bunches up a fistful of the shirt to show what he’s talking about. Andrew tugs it back in place, his fingers prying Neil’s open until they’re intertwined. Neil pulls back, bringing Andrew forward until he has to press Neil’s hand in the mattress and lean over his knee next to Neil’s thigh for balance.

The shirt ends up on the ground, and it’s only after Andrew’s slipped it back on that Neil realizes they forgot to cut the tags. 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment if you enjoyed or noticed a typo! You can find me and reblog the fic @[jsteneil](https://jsteneil.tumblr.com/post/187027696611/the-keys-to-start-again-cavecanem-all-for-the) on tumblr.


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